In 1st year HS (SY-76-77), we were a restless bunch. For us, it was a period of experimentation. We were simply acting our age--daring, adventurous, and foolhardy. We were not some moralistic little saints sporting a halo on our heads. In fact, we committed a lot of mistakes--mistakes that made us realize the consequences of our actions.
From the St John Bosco Dorm, there was a crude exit through the grilled window that led outside to the roof of the adjoining kitchen. From there, you could walk to the media agua of the north side of the High School building. It was actually one of the spots to clean during manualia on Saturdays.
But that night, after supper, Glenn had something in his mind. I followed him through the grilled window and we stealthily walked on the media agua under cover of darkness. We walked close to the walls so that no one would see us and also to use it as a guide since it was dark.
At the area near where you could see the stairs, Glenn stopped and fell on his hands and knees. Then slowly he bent low to peek below the media agua.
I followed suit and rested on my stomach, afraid that I might tip over. We could see Pidoy working on the mimeographing machine. He pulled one stencil from a pile, then examined it against the light. Then gently, he tore the carbon paper between the stencil and the hard paper backing. He crumpled the carbon paper and nonchalantly threw it in the trash bin that was teeming with discarded carbon papers.
A mother lode of gold that glittered in our eyes. But I had some misgivings. I always liked the challenge. What’s the thrill in answering a test that you were previously fed with an answer to? I felt that it would be equivalent to parroting the answers and not knowing what they really meant. But the thrill of acting out our ninja skills, moving stealthily in the shadows, was what captured my imagination.
“Is that our exams?” I whispered to Glenn.
“There’s only one way to find out,” he whispered back. Then he jumped to the ground--the height was probably 10 feet high--in darkness. The impressionable me followed suit, only to land my right foot on a large stone which caused my right ankle to buckle and threw me off balance.
It was a painful sprain that became worse the next day. I don’t even recall much the incidents that happened after that. But it seems that we waited until the mimeographing room was empty. What we found were not our exams so we just left them there undisturbed.
I couldn’t do much activity after that mishap, except to limp slowly from the dorm to the chapel to the refectory to the classroom. That’s why I wasn’t surprised days later--actually this was after the exams--when I went to study hall for the study period and found myself alone during the Angelus.
I didn’t pay much attention to it, and I didn’t want to move around, until Inday came to the study hall asking me, “Where are your classmates?”
Later, I heard a commotion. There were lots of running and trying not to appear to be in a hurry, as they started trickling in one by one, hurriedly sitting down, opening a book, and looking immersed in their study. Something urgent and hush-hush was definitely afoot, like a gold rush or something.
The commotion turned into something serious: the prospectors caught and their secret revealed. There were talks of being called to the office by the Prefect of Discipline, as silent bickering suggested that someone squealed.
I learned later on, after the gold dust had settled down, the reason for the commotion. What I didn't know was the punishment meted out to the perpetrators after the incident. Or who squealed. Then as suddenly as it happened, it also was quickly forgotten. References to the incident have since been called unceremoniously as “ransack of the faculty room”.
It was another misadventure of our class that thankfully
I was unable to participate. (--- nox arcamo)
